


In The Band

by kiitos



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiitos/pseuds/kiitos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two short fics about Beethoven and Mozart being in a band together. Cue friction, tension and clashing egos. And sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Music and Paint

Mozart pins him down and straddles his naked hips, holding his upper arms down against the bed sheets and growling softly in his ear. Beethoven whines.

“Ludwig.” He says and Beethoven shifts beneath him. He’s probably hard and straining against Egyptian cotton so Mozart rocks against him for good measure and Beethoven whines.

Mozart’s pen drips ink onto his bare skin, gentle splashes that fan out and tiny drops that catch on fine hair. It’s rather beautiful and Mozart almost doesn’t want to do anything more, just perch in his position of casual victory and paint a masterpiece in ink drops. But he’s a musician not a painter so with his little finger he drags excess blue into a semibreve. Four beats and then he swirls a minim out of a splash on his spine.

The first touch of the nib against his sensitive skin sends Beethoven trembling and Mozart waits  (smudges are not attractive) then in one long swoop he creates a flowing G-clef between his shoulder blades. The perfect key for this perfect symphony across his lover’s back, a sprawling work of dominance and tension and something disturbingly tender. He punctuates the bar with a biting kiss and seals the next set of jarring notes with a soothing lick. Beethoven’s soft answering whimper is in perfect harmony.

Mozart smiles. Beethoven could stop this if he wants, he’s not pinned anymore but he stays. And he stays still and lets Mozart work.

A final crescendo of screeching top notes with an undercurrent of a dangerous low melody and Mozart thinks he’s done. Beethoven’s skin shines with gently drying blue ink and it looks strangely ethereal in the soft light of Mozart’s bedroom.

Time off tour is bringing them closer together and Mozart isn’t sure he hates it like he might have done a year ago. He’s not as alarmed by that as he could be and he blows carefully (happily) to speed up the drying time. When he’s satisfied the ink won’t smudge he flips Beethoven over and hums his creation around the man until he screeches that final crescendo.

It’s so fitting and so right and as he falls asleep to the sound of Beethoven suggesting alterations Mozart thinks he can’t let this perfectly dreadful man go. (But the next morning his bed is empty and his sigh is distressingly hollow.)

When Beethoven next shows up at his house after two weeks of not talking to him at all, with a perfect G-clef inked in striking black permanence between his shoulder blades, Mozart knows.

And he whines when Beethoven kisses him.


	2. An Hour and Five

Five minutes…

Mozart is still smirking like he doesn’t believe him and Beethoven can’t help arching a graceful eyebrow. Mozart ‘s arrogance is something he wears well, like an old scarf permanently attached and becoming a little bit tiresome to all but those who have learned to find it endearing. But right now Beethoven is determined to strip it away, bit by bit, thread by thread until he’s left with Wolfgang, truly exposed.

Fifteen minutes…

Mozart is glaring at him with his wrists locked in place and his skin quivering just a little, like he’s trying to control himself but his nerves are on a desperate escape attempt. He’s kind of beautiful now the sheen of perspiration coats his chest and shimmers as he trembles into his touch. Mozart whines but Beethoven is not done yet.

Half an hour…

Mozart is growing desperate, he jumps at almost every touch and his whimpers are becoming ragged. His back arches whenever Beethoven hovers a hand over his chest and he gasps great lungfuls of air when fingertips graze his too sensitive nipples. “Ludwig” he moans and groans but Beethoven ignores him, he thinks Mozart can hold out for longer.

Fourty-five minutes…

Those are almost tears in his eyes as Beethoven slides a slicked finger inside him, deliberately missing that one spot that would probably make the man beneath him explode. Mozart cries out for him, too far gone to care about propriety and happily reduced to a quivering wreck that will beg on command. And Beethoven knows this because Beethoven asked him ten minutes ago. And he begged him so desperately.

An hour…

Even Beethoven is beginning to feel sympathetic, the almost tears have turned into actual tears gliding from wild brown eyes. His chest is heaving, flushed and damp as Beethoven kisses soothing trails across skin that is so sensitive it must be painful. Judging by the way Wolfie howls. Beethoven has broken him, pulled him apart and brought him down several notches and without realising he’s become a little bit enamoured. Broken Wolfie is beautiful and addictive and he wants him so much it hurts him.

An hour and five…

He slides down cruelly onto Mozart’s cock and counts one, two, three, four and oh…Mozart shrieks so loudly it hurts even Beethoven to listen. It can hardly be counted as an orgasm when it occurs so explosively and Beethoven almost comes at the very idea of what he’s done.  He fists himself to a similarly quick end before deciding to take care of Wolfie, because whilst he may be cruel in his feelings towards this man, there is still room for tenderness as he unlocks him and gathers him into an embrace and lets him cry.

It’s not the most conventional declaration of an awkward kind of love that slow burned its way into his life, but he couldn’t give a fuck because it doesn’t matter. He has Wolfie and the band and everything he ever wanted, being able to completely break Wolfie is just a nice bonus.


End file.
